Fiction with bite

Seven Questions with Armand Rosamilia

Today’s guest is Armand Rosamilia, author of the Dying Days series. I had the pleasure to meet Armand at the 2014 World Horror Convention. We’ve also shared pages in Angelic Knight’s Horror/Erotica/Spoof, Fifty Shades of Decay. Enjoy some words with this fantastic author; Armand has survived zombie apocalypses and my seven deadly questions.

I own a shirt just like the one Armand wears.

Hi Armand and welcome.

1) Please tell us a little bit about you.

I was born in New Jersey. I’m a Scorpio. I hate long walks on the beach. I have a fondness for M&M’s and big butts. I cannot lie. (I lie all the time, just not about big butt liking). I once ate 37 White Castle cheeseburgers in their parking lot in 90 minutes and I wasn’t even drinking.

2) Tell us a little about the Dying Day’s series, didn’t #4 just come out?

Why, yes it did! Dying Days 4 is my latest release. The series has progressed over the course of the four books as well as various others (beginning with Highway To Hell, Darlene Bobich: Zombie Killer and into the Dying Days: Origins and Still Dying series) by slowly having the zombies evolve and regain their intelligence. And some of them are smarter than the survivors.

3) We talked a little about Authors Supporting Our Troops at WHC, would you mind recapping some of that?

The event was amazing. We sent 2,500 author-signed books overseas to soldiers in remote areas of Kuwait, Afghanistan, and other spots. Places where they couldn’t easily get wifi or fresh batteries for an iPod. The only relaxing thing they had to do was read. Even though the 2014 event is technically over, I’m still getting books trickling in from authors who just found out about it. We’ll do another kickoff on January 2015 for four months, with a goal of 3,000 author-signed books. If you’re an author or publisher and interested in helping, get in touch with me.

[Editor’s note; Armand’s twitter and webpage are at the end of the interview, before the excerpt.]

Next year too.

4) A month or so ago, Timothy Baker was interviewed and he participated in your Summer of Zombie Blog Tour. How did the tour work out?

Even with Timothy Baker in it, the event was great. (I kid… I love the guy). 30+ zombie authors, 3-4 interviews/teasers/guest posts a day, and a ton of giveaways. We also sold cool shirts with all the author’s names on the back. It was a ton of behind the scenes work for me, but it is always worth it. This was the third June in a row I’ve done it, and I’ll do it big again next year. I also do a smaller Winter of Zombie tour in November every year. I like to keep busy and help out other authors.

5) Have you ever written something so disturbing that you were afraid to let other people read it?

I wrote a horrific rape scene once and it felt so horrible while writing it. When I went back and read it I knew, even though it was needed in the story, I couldn’t keep it. I ended up deleting it and about 10,000 words of a book because I didn’t want to have it in there.

6) What is the toughest part about writing? How do you get past it?

The distractions on a daily basis. My goal is a simple 2,000 words a day, but once I start answering e-mails, doing interviews, checking my sales from the previous day (who am I kidding – from the last hour), and wasting time on Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest and 57 other social media outlets, most of my day is gone. I get past it by staring at the long list of projects I need to complete and wondering how to pay the water bill this month.

7) Not naming any names, do you ever work friends (or jerks) into a story?

Oh, constantly. I won’t name names, but both my ex-wives die horrible deaths in one or two stories. Okay, a few. Damn. Fine. Pretty much all of them.

“I can smell the three of you up there… wait, is there a fourth? A baby, perhaps?”

Darlene put her hands on her full belly and sighed. She could barely move on the bed and no matter what she did she couldn’t get into a comfortable position. It had been like this for weeks.

Murph, looking so frail sitting in the corner chair, wheezed as he slept fitfully, his head lolling back against the wall. In the weeks since their escape from the stilt houses, they’d found little shelter or food. Circling through the Palm Coast area had been a nightmare as more and more of the zombies began to talk and do things a living person would do. It would be harder and harder to know the difference between the zombies and the living soon enough.

“There’s only one of them,” John Murphy said, glancing out the window. “He’s standing on the porch.”

They were holed up in the upstairs apartment above Kokomo’s Café in Flagler Beach, where (in better times long past) the spectacular view would allow one to see the ocean a block away and the tourists and locals in Veteran’s Park, and enjoy the smell of good coffee from below.

Now the only smell was death and smoke. The view was burnt buildings and Rorschach blood spatters on every surface.

“Maybe he’ll go away,” Darlene said unconvincingly. It was only a matter of time before they were rooted out of another hiding place. It kept happening over and over, the baby like a beacon to these monsters.

John looked back and gave her a faint smile. “We can’t keep doing this.” He glanced at his father on the chair and back to Darlene. “Neither of you can be moved. It was a bitch getting you up the stairs.”

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in,” the zombie called from below. He started laughing at his own joke. “Toss down the baby and let me play with it. Is it a boy or a girl? Does it look like its mommy or daddy? Does it have my eyes?”

John went to the bed and kissed Darlene on the cheek. “Do we have anything I can kill it with?”

She shook her head. “I’m out of ammo for the Desert Eagle and for the shotgun.”

“I’m out of arrows and bolts and haven’t found anything to fashion new ones with. I need something… damn,” John said and pointed at his sleeping dad. “A leg of the chair would do just fine.”

“Don’t wake Murph. You know how pissed he gets,” Darlene said. “And I don’t want you going down there.”

“I have to. All this yelling will only bring more of them. And they aren’t mindless anymore. This one will be expecting us. Remember the attack at Matanzas High School? They let me waste all my arrows and bolts and I only hit half the time. They aren’t so easy to kill.”

“Seriously, are you coming down to let me in or not? This is just plain rude. Are you Yankees? Huh? Whatever happened to Southern hospitality? I demand some respect as well as a sweet tea and a slice of key lime pie,” the zombie said and laughed loudly at his jokes.

“I’m going to kill him,” John said and shook his dad, sleeping on the chair.